Indiana Jones and the Search for Excalibur
by Thistle of Liberty
Summary: Henry Sr requests his son's help in a matter and together they begin the tideous work of finding King Arthur's lost sword. It's not easy, especially when you've got twenty years of conflict to make up for. Warning: spanking of an adult. Discontinued.
1. Prologue

It was late in the evening and all of the guests had left. Only Indiana Jones, his father and a mountain of dishes remained. The evening had been pleasant if quiet, with only Indy, Henry Sr., Marcus Brody and a few more close friends. To Indy's embarrassment, he had been the main topic of discussion; Marcus and the others having related some of his adventures to Henry Sr. A great part of the evening, for Indy anyways, had been spent trying to make what the others related sound less dangerous. His father, though, who had joined him on one of his most dangerous adventures yet, was not fooled. More than once Indy felt himself subjected to a disapproving and worried frown from his father, even though Henry refrained from saying anything.

Now that they were alone, Henry felt justified in voicing his thoughts.

"I've already told you that sharing your adventures is an interesting experience", he said, "and so is hearing about them. But it's disconcerting as well, my boy. Almost all of those stories include you nearly getting yourself killed."

Indy immediately went defensive. With a shrug he took a sip from the glass of wine he was holding.

"It' what I do, dad", he said nonchalantly, "Too bad if you got a problem with it."

Henry frowned.

"First of all, don't take that tone with me", he said sternly, "Second of all, I never said I had a problem with it."

"Then what are you complaining about?" Indy said, his voice rising.

"I'm not complaining, Junior. I'm saying that I find it worrying that my only child is out risking his life most of the time. Can't you understand that?"

Indy looked away from his father. Of course he could, but what did his dad want him to do? The expeditions had become part of his life, whether he wanted to or not.

"Junior…", his father sighed, "come on, talk to me."

"Of course I understand, dad", Indy said silently, "it's just… What do you want me to do?"

"Take it easy for a year", Henry said and raised his hand to stop Indy from interrupting, "No dangerous, near-death, globetrotting expeditions for a year. Promise me that."

Indy opened his mouth to speak but then closed it again. He didn't know what to say. It was a reasonable demand. He had expected worse to be honest. So maybe he should just be grateful he had his dad back and make the promise. He needed time to catch up on his work, that was for sure…

"All right, dad. I promise."

Henry smiled proudly at him and reached for the bottle of wine on the table. He poured some into his own glass and then filled Indy's glass.

"So", he said, "Where you really possessed by the spirit of Kali?"

* * *

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has read this. This will be a multi-chapter fic (my first! Hurray!) and the up-dates may come somewhat sporadically. The first two or three chapters are nearly finished though, so you should see them up shortly.

Now, on to more important things. This fic will focus mainly on Indy and Henry's relationship. There is a plot, though. ;) Most of the stuff in the story is made up by me and may not be correct…

As I said, the main focus of this fic is the father/son relationship and for those of you who have read other stuff I've written know that I write discipline fics, i.e. spanking fics. So far, the story doesn't contain spanking but it might in the future. If so, I will of course change the summary to include a warning and also put a warning at the beginning of the chapter. I just thought it was fair to tell everyone.

Please leave a review and tell me what you think. Thanks. :D


	2. I Nazis in London?

_A/N: First chapter! Hope everyone enjoys it. I want you guys to know that I don't consider action-scenes a speciality. But hey, I'm writing Indiana Jones, so what did I expect? Anyways, next chapter might take a while. Busy reseaching..._

* * *

Indiana Jones was quickly running down the street, successfully dodging cars and pedestrians alike, now and again throwing a glance over his shoulders to make sure his pursuers weren't catching in on him. He had gone to London to research his latest discovery. According to an old scroll he had found, the jar containing Cleopatra's heart was to be found somewhere in Egypt, not together with the rest of her body. It had been too fascinating to resist so Indy had flown to England without telling anyone what he was up to with the intent of researching a little before deciding whether to continue to Egypt or not. That's what he told himself anyways. Deep in he knew that he had decided to go to Egypt the first time he read the scroll.

His pursuers had taken him by surprise just as he was leaving the British Library.

"Dr Jones?" their leader had asked, immediately recognizable as Nazi by his heavy German accent and the discreet swastika on his tie-pin.

"What's it to you?" Indy replied, quickly sizing the man up. He was a short man, only reaching to Indy's shoulder but the gorilla behind him easily made up for that. He was enormous, reaching at least five inches above Indy and the muscles on his body made him at least twice as broad.

"You have something zat we want", the man said and smiled evilly.

"And what's that?"

"Ze cipher, Jones", the German replied.

"I don't know what the hell you're talkin' about and even if I did I wouldn't help you. Now scram, will ya? I'm a busy man."

Indy turned away and began walking. He could hear the short debate behind him followed by hurried footsteps. A gigantic hand was placed on his shoulder and he was spun around by the gorilla. Instinctively, he raised his hand and swiftly gave the man a hard punch across the face. It didn't achieve the wanted reaction though, since the man simply grunted and raised his own hand to punch Indy. Quickly Indy raised his knee and shoved it in the gorilla's groin, hard. He doubled over with a grunt and let go of Indy's shoulder. Not wasting any time Indy spun around on his heel and began running.

Behind him the two German's were slowly beginning to trail behind. Indy smiled wryly as he rounded a stall selling roasted almonds. His smile quickly disappeared though, as he noticed the men standing in front of him. Three tall men in black suits with the unmistakable bump under their arms showing they were armed were positioned close together. Indy caught sight of them just in time to notice the nod one of them gave his pursuers.

"Damn", he muttered under his breath. He quickly took in his surroundings before darting off to his right. Two of the men immediately ran after him, one of them pulling out a gun. A shot rang out and screams erupted all over the street. Indy automatically reached for his whip which, obviously, wasn't there. He cursed under his breath. Another shot.

Indy gasped as the bullet grazed his left thigh and, unprepared for the sudden pain as he was, stumbled and fell. He quickly got to his feet, but not quickly enough for the men to have reached him.

"Just give us ze cipher, Herr Jones", one of them said.

"What bloody cipher?" Indy shouted. He was getting really annoyed. He directed a silent thank you to some higher power that his father was in the States. "No dangerous, near-death globe-trotting expeditions in a year. Promise me that, Junior." Indy felt fairly sure getting shot by Nazis qualified as dangerous. He knew for sure how his father had handled broken promises twenty years ago and he had no particular desire to find out how he handled them now. Not that his dad could really blame him, though; Indy couldn't have known there would be crazy Nazis in London.

"Well, you shouldn't have been in London in the first place", the annoying voice of his conscience told him. But since trying to find Cleopatra's heart and running into the Nazis weren't related he hadn't really broken the promise. Well, good luck in telling Henry Sr. that. Indy grimaced. Sometimes he thought it would have been better if he simply hadn't made up with his dad.

His thoughts were interrupted by a hard punch to his jaw. He punched back without much thought and directed a kick to the man's legs, successfully tripping him. The other man leapt onto him with a knife in his hand and before he had time to think Indy was down on the ground again. His right hand was pinned to the ground by the Nazi but his left was still free. He punched the man in the face and spun around so that he was on top. Freeing his right hand he gave the man a hard blow to the face. The man grunted and shoved up his knee in Indy's stomach before rolling over and in the same motion trying to slash Indy's throat. He missed though and suddenly found himself being rolled over again. Indy, once again on top, proceeded to give the man several hard blows to the face.

When he felt the man was duly indisposed he got up and turned to the man who had shot him. Expertly, Indy punched the man squarely in the jaw before once more tripping him. The man's head hit the pavement with a disconcerting noise and with a quick glance at the man Indy directed his attentions to his surroundings. Not a sign of the three remaining Nazis. Could they really have given up? A shot disproved that idea quickly. Indy bent down and swiftly relieved the un-conscious Nazi of his gun before straightening again and turning in the direction the shot had come from. The shooter was slowly walking towards him with a mad grin on his lips. Indy raised his gun to fire. The first shot missed and went into a car that stood parked outside a grocery store. The next shot hit the man in the arm and Indy could see the quick grimace of pain disfiguring the man's face. The shooter raised his hand and shot, fortunately not hitting Indy who immediately fired a third time, this time hitting the Nazi in the stomach.

Then, for the second time that day, Indy felt the large gorilla's hand on his shoulder. Without even waiting to see that it really was the gorilla he spun around and delivered a punch to the man's jaw. The German simply grunted before grabbing hold of Indy's jacket lapels and dragging him up in the air. He smiled a large, stupid smile before spinning around and throwing Indy away like a hammer thrower. After a few meters Indy hit the ground, hard. He slid on the pavement for another meter before stopping completely. As he got up he felt a stinging pain in his knee and as he looked down he noticed his trousers were completely wrecked. Great. Now he had to get a new suit.

The huge German was once again approaching him, and now he had drawn a knife. He stretched out a hand and grabbed Indy's arm, dragging him close to him. With a devilish smile he raised the sharp knife. Panicking a little, Indy punched the man in the face. As the last time, the man seemed completely undisturbed. Indy raised his hand to punch the gorilla again but changed his mind and instead dug his fingernails into the man's cheek. The gorilla roared and let go of Indy who immediately stepped back and bent down to retrieve the gun. He stood up with the gun in hand and raised it. Before he had time to shoot the gorilla, now with four red marks on his cheek, leapt forwards slashing wildly with the knife. He seemed to be aiming for Indy's throat but it was hard to tell as his motions were wild and completely un-calculated. One violent slash hit Indy over the collar bone, ruining his suit and making him grimace in pain. Luckily it wasn't very deep and, un-willing to prolong the crazy fight, Indy raised his gun once more and fired. The shot hit the gorilla right in the forehead and he died within a moment.

Still full of adrenaline, Indy rapidly looked around for the last German, the short one. At first he thought he must have left but just as he was going to get away he saw the figure of the black-clad German in the corner of his eye. He turned around and sprinted in the direction of the alley he had seen the German in. He reached it just in time to see the man's departure in a black Rolls Royce.

"Damn", he exclaimed and then, for the third time that day, felt a hand on his shoulder. He raised his hand, ready to punch, and spun around. In front of him stood a young, frightened-looking policeman in uniform.

"I'm sorry, Sir", he said, "but you'll have to come with me."

"What the hell?" Indy growled.

"I-I'm sorry, Sir, b-but…"

The young man held up a pair of hand-cuffs with a nervous smile plastered to his face. Indy glared at the police-man but compliantly stretched out his hands to be hand-cuffed. He then silently followed the officer into a waiting police-car.

"I really hate Nazis", he muttered as the car drove off, leaving in its wake an astonished crowd.

* * *

_Hopefully you enjoyed that and hopefully you'll leave a review. Right? ;)_

_Thank you for reading. _


	3. II Unexpected Meeting

_A/N: Long chapter, people. Hopefully a good one too. And, for everyones information I don't usually up-date this fast, it's just that this was already almost completely finished when I posted the prologue. Next chapter is more than half-finished too, btw. _

_And, in case there was any doubt, I don't own Indiana Jones or his dad. I own the plot of this story and I own Ravensloft (you'll find out who he is soon ^^). Don't be mean to him, btw, I'm rather attached to him... _

* * *

Indy was a little surprised at how polite everyone was to him; after all, he had killed two men right on the street. Perhaps they were just scared of him. The young police-man who had brought him to the prison, or whatever it was, seemed relieved to hand him over to the guards. Indy was made to sign his name in a large ledger as soon as he had entered the prison.

Then he was led by the arm along a long corridor by an elderly guard. They stopped at one of the doors and the man let go of Indy's arm to procure a large bunch of keys. He held it up to his eyes, squinting to find the right one. Indy considered running but he was still handcuffed and it wasn't as if he was in Germany or Soviet; it was England. He wasn't really in danger. So he simply sighed and waited as the old man un-locked the door.

"Just bang on the door if you need anythin'. I'll bring ye somethin' to eat in a couple of hours", the guard said, "There's some nasty-looking wounds ye've got there. Ye need a doctor?"

"Nah. I'm fine, thanks", he said.

With a weak smile he let the man un-cuff his hands. He entered the cell and heard the door close behind him. With a heavy sigh he threw himself on the small cot and silently mumbled a long string of curses that would have impressed a sailor.

"I _hate_ Nazis..." he finally mumbled to himself.

* * *

Indy was awoken the next morning by a knock on the cell's door. His back was aching from spending the night on the hard cot and he was hungry. The old guard had brought him some food, as promised, but that had been over thirteen hours ago.

Without waiting for a reply, a young, blondish man entered the cell. He looked out-of-place in his crisp uniform and slicked back hair.

"Sir?" he said, his accent clearly English. Upper-class, Indy thought. "I have orders to escort you."

"Where?" Indy asked, exaggerating his American accent just to tease the young snob. The young man pursed his lips but didn't say anything.

"I am not at authority to tell you", he said.

Indy looked up at the man sceptically. He didn't move for a while, to show the Englishman he was still in charge, and then shrugged and rose from the thin cot.

"Can't be worse than this", he said and exited the room with long steps, deliberately making the other jog to catch up with him.

They exited the building, the policeman at the front door nodded politely to Indy's "escort" and sent Indy himself a friendly grin. Indy grinned back.

Outside, the streets were busy with all sorts of people in spite of the early hour, Big Ben was just striking nine, and just outside the building a black car stood waiting.

Indy's companion opened the door and gestured for Indy to get in. He did so and the man followed him. Indy rudely turned away from him, staring out the window. However, he was able to see the blonde's reflection in the window and the man's pursed lips and generally disapproving expression made Indy smile. But he still didn't turn away from the window.

It was a short car-ride, only ten or fifteen minutes later the car stopped outside an impressive building. It was tall and looked early Victorian. Strangely, it looked more like a private residence than an official building.

Curiosity piqued, Indy didn't need the other man's encouragement to get out of the car. He turned to him.

"Is this the place?" he asked.

"It is", the man replied.

"Then I won't need you anymore", Indy lightly stated and with a wry smile he turned around and walked the short distance to the door.

"But, Sir..!" he could hear the young man yell behind him. He ignored it.

Without hesitation he knocked sharply on the door and in a matter of moments it was opened by a tall, muscular man in his early fifties. He was dressed in an immaculate suit but it looked wrong on him, probably because of the weathered face, adorned with more than one scar, and the short but wild beard.

"Yes?" he said in a heavy Irish accent.

"I'm expected", Indy said, still driven by his dislike for the young man in uniform.

"By whom?" the tall man countered, not without amusement.

"Dunno", Indy said with a shrug, "Ask the guy over there."

He pointed to the snobbish man who was standing rigidly at attention with a worried expression on his face. The tall man nodded to him then looked back to Indy.

"I see" he said and then stretched out a large hand, "I'm Evans."

Indy took the hand and shook it with a wry smile.

"Jones", he said.

"Come this way", Evans said and beckoned. Indy entered and Evans closed the door behind him. They had entered a narrow hallway with Victorian paintings all over the walls. Indy followed Evans but couldn't help glancing at the paintings with wide-eyed curiosity. These were famous artists, he noted. And expensive, a cynical voice in his head added.

They kept walking, quicker than Indy would have liked as the pace gave him no time to examine the artefacts strewn about the rooms. Then suddenly they reached a door and stopped.

"Wait here, will ye?" Evans said before knocking lightly on the door. A voice called for him to enter and he did. A few moments later the door opened again and Evans waved Indy inside.

This room was less of a museum than the others. It was large and one of the walls was completely covered in windows. The opposite was covered by book-shelves. In front of a large, marble fire-place an ebony desk was placed and behind it there was a chair. In the chair there was a man in his late fifties, early sixties. He was tall, thin and looked rather like a ghost. Against the white hair his face didn't look all too pale but Indy had a feeling it was. He had large, grey eyes and was dressed in a perfectly tailored grey suit. Indy felt very haggard all of a sudden.

The man behind the desk rose.

"Mr Jones", he said and stretched out hand. Indy hurried forward and took the out-stretched hand. He gulped nervously.

"Yes, Sir", he said, and then remembering his manners, "How do you do?"

"How do you do", the white-haired man replied. "My name is Ravensloft."

This Ravensloft spoke clear, well-articulated English with a soft voice that had an un-expected edge to it.

"Indiana Jones", was all Indy could think of to say.

"There's someone here who would like to meet you", Ravensloft said and with a peculiar smile he nodded to Evans who immediately left the room through another door than the one he had entered through. None of the men left in the room said anything. Indy was starting to feel nervous. Only Marcus knew he had gone to England and Marcus certainly wasn't there himself. Who on Earth could it be? With his luck, it was probably some deranged Nazi. Or a fanatic priest... Indy shuddered.

A minute or so later Evans entered once again, this time smiling to Ravensloft, and this time he had someone with him. Indy blanched as he heard this someone's voice.

"How can I help, Gabriel?" the well-known, slightly Scottish voice of Prof. Henry Jones Sr. came through the door, "I want you to know that I was just in the middle of…"

He stopped as he entered the room. He stared at Indy, shocked.

"Hi dad", Indy said and forced a nervous smile.

His father didn't say anything. For a moment at least.

"Henry Jones Junior!" he nearly shouted, "What have you done to yourself? And what are you doing in London? In Gabriel's office? And how on Earth did you manage to get that wound?"

Indy glanced down at his collar bone and realised the foul-looking gash was showing. He quickly covered it by pulling a little at his shirt.

"This?" he said, "Oh, it's nothing dad. Just a scratch. It was just an accident…"

Well, that sounds _really _convincing, he thought.

"We will discuss this later", Henry warned with a deadly stare that caused Indy to grimace. There was a note in Henry's voice that lead him to believe it wouldn't be an all too pleasant discussion.

"Yes sir", he muttered automatically.

"Shall we go on to business, then?" Ravensloft interrupted with raised eyebrows, seemingly oblivious to the scene that had just ocurred, "Or would you rather rest first?"

He directed the second question to Indy who after a quick glance at his father hurriedly replied.

"No. No, now will fine."

"First of all", Henry said, "What is my son doing here?"

"Well", Ravensloft replied with a shrug, "you wanted to get him here so when I heard he was in England I made sure he would be escorted here."

"How did you find out he was in England?" Henry curiously inquired, "I knew you're good at what you do must there must be hundreds of people entering England every day."

"There is" the other man said, "and rest assured Henry, I don't keep track of them. I'm only human after all…"

He said this last bit with a slight wistfulness as if he wished he would be able to keep track of every tourist in England.

"How then?" Henry pressed.

"Your son…", Ravensloft began with a glance at Indy, "was arrested by the police four o'clock yesterday afternoon. Apparently, he was charged with some rather serious crimes…"

He drifted off and Indy glanced upwards, forming a silent prayer to let him disappear in a cloud of smoke.

"What charges, more specifically?" Henry asked, with a very dangerous voice.

"Disturbance of peace, illegal use of fire-arms, damage to public and private property, assault and… and man-slaughter."

After he had finished there was silence. Ravensloft himself seemed unperturbed, simply staring calmly out in space, Evans was looking rather un-comfortable in a corner and Henry was staring hard at Indy who was looking down at his feet wishing he was somewhere else.

"I naturally arranged for the charges to be dropped", Ravensloft added, as an afterthought.

Henry simply nodded then walked over to Indy, standing right in front of him.

"Henry Jones Junior", he said sternly, "look at me."

Indy silently obeyed.

"Care to explain?"

"Ehm…" Indy began, nervously glancing at Ravensloft, who seemed to have forgotten them, and then at Evans, who shrugged apologetically. He turned back to his father. "Honestly, dad, it wasn't my fault. Those guys, they were Nazis."

Henry's eyes softened a little and he nodded for his son to continue.

"I don't know what they wanted but they were babbling about this cipher… I told them I didn't know what they were talking about and I asked them, very politely, to leave me alone. Then they got nasty. I mean real nasty. Guns, knives… you know, dad. So I had to do something, didn't I?"

Henry nodded thoughtfully.

"And what were you doing in England in the first place?"

This question was more difficult. He now regretted making the rash promise to his father. True, the promise had been pulled out of him but it was still a promise.

And then this artefact had come up… Ancient Egyptian jar said to contain Cleopatra's heart. It would have been so easy. Just go to the British Library, do some research, then head to Egypt and find the place. Easy. And of all the people he could meet it _had_ to be Nazis and his dad.

"Eh…" Indy began. He hated lying to his father, mainly because his father usually found out and punished him for it. "I was doing some research."

"About..?"

"The jar containing Cleopatra's heart…"

This was not going in a good direction, Indy decided.

"And why, my son, would you want to research the jar containing Cleopatra's heart?"

Henry's voice was dangerously calm and Indy acted just the way he had when he was a kid, namely he stared at his feet and mumbled.

"Well?" Henry asked sharply, his voice reminding Indy of a whip.

"I was sort of… you know, going to get it. In Egypt. Sir."

Henry was quiet. Indy still didn't look up. No yelling? No scolding? No "go to your room, Henry Jones Junior"?

Suddenly Henry raised his hand and gave the surprised Indy a resounding slap on the cheek. Indy raised a hand to rub it and looked at his father with a questioning expression.

"That's for getting arrested", he said sternly and then, before Indy had time to react, he raised his other hand and slapped Indy across the other cheek, just as hard.

"And that's for causing Gabriel trouble", he said with a quick smile, but then turned stern again. "Now apologize to Mr Ravensloft."

"Dad!" Indy complained, "I'm not a child! You can't…"

He drifted off as Henry raised his hand warningly. Indy turned to Ravensloft.

"I'm sorry if I have caused you trouble, Mr Ravensloft", he said sulkily.

"You did", Ravensloft replied, "but your father seems to have dealt with it."

"That's one way of putting it", Indy replied mumbling. Ravensloft smiled a little, as if unsure whether it was a joke or not, and then quickly got serious again.

"Then, I suppose I should explain the reason for your presence here. Your father is engaged in aiding the British Empire in a matter of utmost importance. He has requested you aid."

"What matter?" Indy asked.

"You are to find the Excalibur", Ravensloft stated matter-of-factly.

"What the hell for?" Indy exclaimed, gaining a warning glare from his father.

"The Nazis are trying to find it and we must of course beat them to it."

"Why?"

Ravensloft raised his eye-brows at the question.

"A man called Sun-Tzu once said that to win a war one must best one's adversary in all fields, not just warfare."

"Including archaeology?" Indy sceptically said.

"That is a field, is it not?"

"Yeah… I guess it is."

"Your father will inform you more closely. I shall see you at dinner", Ravensloft said and smiled, "Henry. Indiana."

Indy followed his father out of the room and was, to his great surprised, immediately embraced when they were out of the room.

"You reckless boy…" he heard his father mutter under his breath.

"Sorry, dad", he said a little awkwardly and returned the embrace half-heartedly.

"That's all right, Junior", the old man said and broke the embrace. "Now come along, I'll fill you in on the way."

"All right. First of all, who was that guy?"

"Lord Gabriel Ravensloft", Henry began, entering lecture-mode, "an old school-mate, also the head of one of the finest families in England. He is the head of the Secret Service's Nazi-department. Also a doctor of maths, by the way. Some claim he is the most intelligent man in Britain."

"He didn't seem very, eh... attentive", Indy said, choosing a word as non-offensive as possible feeling he had pissed his dad off more than enough for one day.

"Oh, he's like that", Henry replied absently, "It can be un-settling at first, but you get used to it."

"And… the Excalibur?" Indy didn't bother to hide the scepticism in his voice.

"You know the legend of course. King Arthur's sword, possessing mythical powers directly from God or some other deity. Anyways, Hitler has his eyes set on it, it's supposed to help him gain world-domination and Gabriel wants us to locate it."

"All right… but even if I, supposedly, agreed to help you, I promised not to embark on any dangerous expeditions for a year…" Indy said.

"Oh, don't worry. It's not dangerous, and you've got my permission. We'll have the British army protecting us!"

"Well, I'm sorry dad, but I don't want to get involved. Besides, you don't need me. You're the medieval expert, not I."

"Have you got any idea how much work there is? We're in a hurry. I need someone to help me, and frankly Junior, you're the only one I trust to do the job well enough."

Indy blushed at the un-expected praise but was still adamant not to accept the task.

"Still, dad. I'm busy."

"Apparently not busy enough to stop you from running after Egyptian jars", Henry retorted sarcastically. Indy shrugged.

"Junior, remember what I told you at that crossroad in Germany? On the motor-cycle?"

"Yeah", Indy reluctantly admitted.

"The same applies here. Even if the Excalibur has no power, Hitler must not get it. The Nazis must be defeated, Indiana. It doesn't matter if it's in archaeology, they mustn't win. They're Evil. We must do whatever we can to stop them, otherwise we're hardly better than them. Can you understand that?"

Indy sighed. Why did he even bother to argue with his father? He never won.

"All right dad, you win. Count me in."

* * *

_A/N (again): Liked it? Disliked it? Think Indy's too humble? That was one of my problems with writing this; that he becomes too sonish. But I think I'm justified in having him my way, beacuse Henry Sr. is a rather strong character and growing up with him must leave a rather permanent respect for his authority. _

_Over to practical things; I start school on Monday, i.e. the day after tomorrow, and won't have as much time writing. The next chapter should be up within a week but the following chapter will probably take longer to write. But I will try and my personal goal is a chapter per week but I'm not sure how realistic that is..._

_Thank you for reading and please review. :D_


	4. III Father and Son

_A/N: Didn't have time to post this yesterday as I was sleeping an awful headache off; but here you are!_

_Warning! This chapter contains references to corporal punishment, i.e. spankings. If you are likely to be offended by this do _not_ read on. Otherwise, please do ;)._

* * *

"Now, where are you hurt?" Henry sternly asked his son as they briskly walked down the corridor leading to the part of the house Ravensloft had supplied Henry with, "And don't even consider lying."

"I'm kind of bruised all over", Indy replied a trifle apologetically, "but there's a gash over my collar bone, and a bullet touched my thigh plus I scraped my knee."

"All right. Get in here."

Henry nearly pushed Indy into a small, cosy room. There was a bed against one wall and a cupboard opposite it. That was pretty much it except a large window.

"My room", Henry said as way of explanation. "Strip and lie down on the bed."

Indy blushed.

"Dad! It's nothing serious, I can deal with it myself!"

"Very possible, but I don't want you to. Now do what you're told."

Indy glared but obeyed slowly. He couldn't believe he was still being ordered around like a little kid by his father. On the other hand they had twenty years without any ordering at all to make up for. Dressed only in a pair of underpants he lay down on the bed. His father sat down next to him and began to swiftly examine Indy's injuries.

"Humph!" he exclaimed, "'Just a scratch'? I thought I had taught you not to lie to me."

He stretched out a hand for the bottle of spirits he had apparently gotten when Indy was undressing and a dab of cotton. He poured some alcohol over the cotton and then proceeded to, un-necessarily roughly, clean the wound over Indy's collar bone. Indy winced and squirmed, un-successfully trying to get away from the stinging alcohol.

"Stay still!" Henry ordered.

"But dad!" Indy whined, "That hurts."

"Don't be a child", his father retorted, "I'm sure it doesn't hurt half as much as receiving them did."

"Does too."

Henry simply sighed and shook his head.

"It won't need sewing", he said, "I'll just wrap some bandage around it."

Indy simply nodded and lay still as Henry began to wrap it up. It felt good to be taken care of, not having to bother about anything but obeying his father. Sure, his father had taught him "self-reliance", but it didn't mean he couldn't enjoy relying on someone else for a while.

Henry soon got on to cleaning the wound on Indy's thigh, more softly than before. Indy didn't speak as Henry wrapped it up and then continued with his knee.

"Oh…", Henry said, hesitating.

"What?"

"There is dirt in the wound, Junior, small stones and gravel."

"So?" Indy asked, not understanding what his father meant.

"I will have to get them out. It will hurt."

He rose from the bed and went over to one of the doors, assumingly leading to a bathroom, and emerged a moment later with a small case. He put it on the bedside table before sitting down on the bed again. With a comforting smile in his son's direction he procured a pair of tweezers from the case. He put a hand on Indy's leg, steadying it, and then carefully began to remove the small pieces of dirt and stone. Indy's leg twitched involuntarily when the steel made contact with the unprotected flesh.

It took a while to clean the wound and Henry sat there concentrated on intercepting the stones and Indy lay with his eyes closed trying not to flinch.

"Junior…" he heard his dad say. He nodded without opening his eyes. "There are some stones sitting rather deep. It will hurt to get them out."

Indy nodded again and tensed.

"Relax, boy. It will hurt more if you're tense."

Without warning he dug the tweezers into Indy's knee and pulled them out a moment later with a piece of stone in them. Indy hadn't quite had time to react but now he twisted to get away from the hurting object, more on instinct than anything else.

"Relax, Junior", his father soothed. "There's only three or fours pieces left."

"Leave them", Indy said.

"Junior…", his father began exasperatedly.

"Please?" Indy looked at his dad with pleading eyes, consciously making himself look vulnerable.

"No."

"But, dad…"

"No buts, Junior", Henry interrupted him, "You know very well that the risk for infection is far too big if the dirt is left there."

Indy didn't answer, just turned his head away and stared at the wall. Henry silently shook his head and proceeded with his operation. He extracted some gasps from his son along the way and had to hold Indy's leg hard to stop him from twisting it away but after a while all the pieces were out. Henry reached for a dab of cotton and the bottle of alcohol and cleaned the wound carefully, still without a glance from Indy. When he was done he wrapped the knee up before neatly disposing of the cotton in a waste basket and putting the tweezers back in the case. Indy was still demonstratively silent. Henry stretched out a hand and softly touched his son's cheek.

"Indiana", he said, "it was necessary. You know I hate to cause you pain but it would have been foolish to leave the dirt in the wound."

Indy turned to face his father and sat up, still with Henry's hand on his cheek. He knew all that of course. He didn't really know why he had reacted the way he did. It was damn foolish, really, and if he had been Henry he'd probably just slapped himself. Thoughtfully, Indy chewed on his lower lip. God, he hated apologising.

"I know", he said and smiled faintly, "You're right. Sorry."

"That's all right", Henry said with a smile of his own, "Just don't make a habit of sulking when you don't get what you want. I disapprove of sulking. And now, you might want to clean yourself up a bit. I'll get you some new clothes. "

"Yeah... Thanks, dad."

He got up from the bed and entered the bathroom, hearing Henry leave the room. Injured as he was, he felt he had a good enough excuse not to be all too clean so he simply scrubbed his face with water and soap, washed his hands and wiped off any other noticeably dirt. He then pulled his damp hands through his hair and gave himself a look in the mirror. A bruise was beginning to form over his cheekbone and his lip had broken after one of the punches (probably the gorilla's) but other than that he looked surprisingly well. He turned as he heard a knock on the door. Without waiting for a reply his father entered, immediately handing Indy a bunch of clothes.

"They should fit. It's the best I could find. I'll get someone to go to your hotel and pick up your things. I've arranged for lunch, by the way. Just enter the room opposite this when you're done."

Indy nodded his thanks and quickly dressed when Henry had left. The clothes fitted moderately well, the shirt was almost perfect but the trousers were too long and the sweater was too big. Finally, he tied the tie his father had brought and then made his way over to the other room.

It appeared to be some sort of combined drawing room/library/dining room. There was small round table in the middle and two couches over in a corner but other than that the room was filled with shelves, containing everything from books and globes to antique weaponry and sculptures. Indy looked around, surprised, before joining his father at the table. The meal put on the table made Indy remember how hungry he was.

"Please start", Henry said, and needless to say Indy didn't need to be asked twice. He hungrily served himself of the food and began eating quickly, now and again gaining a frown from his father.

"And now, I think we've got some things to discuss, eh?"

Indy winced. His father had always, and probably would always, considered breaking promises "absolutely intolerable". If that was in fact what they were going to discuss it was going to be very unpleasant.

"Yeah, that's right. You need to tell me how far you've gotten and what leads we've got and..."

He stopped as he saw his father's glare.

"Okay, so maybe I broke the promise!" he exclaimed, "I'm sorry, all right?"

"Do you really think that's enough?" Henry asked with a piercing look at his son, "You broke a promise that you made me. That's equal to lying, and not only that, it's disrespectful as well. Do you really think a simple "sorry" is enough to make everything all right?"

Indy fought the impulse to look down at his feet. The words and the tone they were spoken in were enough to make him feel like a teenager again, a teenager in big trouble.

"C'mon dad", he said, trying to hold on to some of his dignity by sounding casual, "I didn't mean to break the promise."

"You didn't _mean_ to break it?", Henry sarcastically asked, "Then what did you mean? You, in spite of clearly promising me not to, went off after some ancient artefact in Egypt and you claim you didn't _mean_ to break the promise?"

"I didn't actually go to Egypt", Indy muttered.

"You intended to and that's what matters. Now, do you still claim you didn't mean to break the promise? In that case I would love to hear how you define 'mean to'."

"Eh... well. All right, I did mean to break the promise, I just didn't mean for you to find out..."

He drifted off as he realised what he had said. Damn. Henry fixed a disapproving glare at his son before speaking.

"So, first you did not only break you're promise but you also fully intended to lie to me about that. On top of that, you manage to get arrested, get accused of several serious crimes and get yourself injured. Is that correct?"

"Yes sir", Indy reluctantly admitted.

"And you think I should forgive and forget after a simple sorry?"

"That was the idea."

"You don't think you should get punished?"

"Dad, I'm not a kid", Indy said, "What are you gonna do?"

"I know what I would have done before you left home", Henry replied solemnly.

So did Indy. His father would have taken his belt to him and made sure he couldn't sit for a week. His father hadn't been strict in the sense his friends meant. Indy could skip home-work, stay out late and do all sorts of things without getting in trouble but if he lied, or was disrespectful, or got himself and others in danger by being reckless his father would make sure he didn't forget for a long time.

"For God's sake dad! That was over twenty years ago!"

"Well, you obviously haven't matured much if you still consider having some fun is more important than keeping your promises."

"I did not come to 'have some fun'!" Indy nearly shouted, angry now, "I came to retrieve an artefact of great historical value!"

"There are other archaeologists in the world!", Henry retorted, "Why didn't you notify a colleague? Why didn't you speak to me?"

"Yeah, as if that would have made things better", Indy sarcastically countered.

"Was it dangerous, your little expedition?"

"No!" Indy shouted.

"Then I would have told you to go!" Henry had raised his voice by now, angry himself.

"Like hell you would!"

"If it really wasn't dangerous, I would have. I know it wasn't your fault you ran into Nazis, I'm not that upset about that. I'm upset you chose to go behind my back!"

"Because I knew you wouldn't approve of it!"

"Then it's even worse!" Henry shouted, exasperatedly.

"I'm an adult, dad! You can't tell me what to do!"

"You promised, Junior!"

"Don't call me that!"

"Junior..." Henry's tone was warning clearly telling Indy to stop it, or else.

"God! I've had enough of this shit! I'm outta here."

With that he rose, nearly toppling his chair over, and stormed out of the room, slamming the door after him. His father really knew how to piss him off at times. He wasn't a child, for God's sake! Luckily for Indy the way out was pretty straight forward or otherwise he'd been helplessly lost in the maze of doors, corridors and un-identifiable rooms. Soon he reached one of the rooms that he recognised as being one of those he had gone through with Evans to reach Ravensloft. Relying more on his sense of direction than memory he chose to go right and was soon rewarded by more recognisable rooms.

Within the minute he had reached the hallway where he had first entered the house. In a few quick steps he had reached the door. He turned the handle to open the door but to his disappointment felt that the door was locked. He cursed silently and looked around for a key. None was there. He reached for his pocketknife, which he conveniently hadn't left in his old clothes, and prepared to pick the lock. Suddenly he heard steps behind him. With a well-practised move he let the knife slip into his pocket again before turning around to face whoever was there. It was Evans. He stood with his muscular arms crossed over his chest and was looking at Indy with an expression more amused than annoyed.

"And what might you be doing?" he asked.

"I'm leaving", Indy replied, "Could you get me the key?"

"Ye can't leave", the big man replied, matter-of-factly.

"Why not?" Indy asked and had to constrain himself from adding "and how were you planning on stopping me?"

"Too dangerous."

"What d'ya mean 'dangerous'?" Indy demanded, "It' London, damnit, not the jungle."

"The danger's no lions either, laddie, it's Nazis."

"You seriously tellin' me there's Nazis in London?"

"Unless you'd prefer to believe those fellas you beat up yesterday were just some madmen, then yeah."

Indy directed an angry glare in Evans' direction.

"Besides, didn't ye come to help yer dad?" the Irishman asked.

"I changed my mind", Indy said.

"Well, ye can't leave", Evans stated, in a tone that clearly suggested that that was his final words on the matter.

"You ain't got any right to hold me here! Heard of habeas corpus?"

"Ye can't leave! I don't care for your fancy expressions, ye simply can't leave."

"What are ya gonna do to stop me!?" Indy shouted, really pissed off now. He felt like he had been transported back in time and was once again twelve.

Just then Henry Sr. entered the room. He had a definitely angry expression and was looking very much like a stern father about to scold his misbehaving child. Which he probably was, Indy reflected dryly. Except he wasn't a child.

"There ye are, Dr Jones", Evans said, sounding relieved, "Yer son wants to leave."

"Yes, his good at that", Henry replied coldly. He then turned to Indy. "Junior, go to my room and wait for me."

If he hadn't been so angry Indy would have winced at the command.

"For Christ's sake dad, for the last time, I am not a child!" he shouted, his voice probably audible in the whole house.

"That may be, but you _are_ acting like one. Running off instead of facing the consequences of your actions, lying, breaking your promises. It might as well have been a ten year old we were talking about. Now, I'll tell you one last time; go to my room."

Indy opened his mouth to argue but saw the glint in his father's eyes and simply glared defiantly. A childhood with that man had apparently left its traces for he found himself obeying the command. The quick walk didn't decrease his anger and once he reached his father's room he was boiling. After entering he slammed the door hard and began to restlessly pace the floor. The kind of disrespect Indy had shown was not good for building relationships with Henry Sr. His dad was either going to kill him or tell him he never wanted to see him again. Or... Indy quickly pushed his mind away from the last option. It was not going to happen. No way. He was over thirty for God's sake! His dad was _not _going to whip his ass with a belt. Over Indy's dead body.

He spun around as the door opened and Henry entered, still wearing the same stern expression.

"Dad", Indy began, "I'm leaving. This isn't gonna work. This whole father-son shit. I see why you're mad. I made a promise and you expected me to keep it like a good son. But I'm not dad. Face it, I ran away and I didn't talk to you for ages. We're just not cut out for being father and son. It might seem tough, but it'll be better for both of us."

"Why?" Henry asked, now really angry. He wasn't shouting, or even raising his voice, he just spoke with a cold calmness that Indy had come to recognise as Big Trouble. He opened his mouth to answer but Henry held up a hand to silence him. "Because it hurts your pride to obey me? Because you don't want to feel responsible to anyone? I know that I wasn't a great father and that we haven't spoken for years. I regret that, because you obviously had need for a father. You can't run away from problems. It's a child's solution and if you were as grown up and mature as you say you would know that. We are both to blame for the years we didn't speak, one more than the other perhaps; it doesn't matter. But if you think that I'm going to let my only child leave again because he is too proud to admit his mistakes, you are badly mistaken. I care about you more than that. It doesn't matter if you're not 'a good son', you're _my_ son."

Indy opened his mouth to reply but found that he didn't really know what to say.

"So... what happens then? You won't forgive me for breaking my promise..."

"Of course I will", Henry replied, "I was going to tell you but you ran off and now I'm even more convinced than before. Accept the punishment I give you, and I'll forgive you completely."

"Dad...", Indy began, "What punishment?"

"A suiting one."

Indy grimaced. What sort of punishment could it be? The first thing that leapt to mind was a vivid memory of standing bent over his father's desk getting the licking of his life. No way. He was over thirty. Even his father had to realise that you couldn't take your belt to an adult. No. There was some other punishment.

"All right", Indy conceded with a sigh. "I agree. What's the punishment?"'

Henry didn't reply, just walked over to his son, took him by the arm and, surprisingly gently, bent him over the bed. Indy immediately straightened, jumping away from his dad.

"No way, dad! Anything but that. You can't... I mean, I'm an adult. You can't... can't..."

He drifted off.

"Can't give you a sound thrashing?" Henry asked, perfectly calm, "Why not? I'm your father, you're my son. You deserve it. Look me in the eyes and tell me that you really think you don't deserve it and I won't do it."

Indy bit his lip. Why did his father have to be so bloody... reasonable at times like this? Having to admit he realised he deserved to be punished was extremely hard, and his father knew it. Yes, he did deserve it he supposed. But he didn't want to admit that he thought so. Damn Cleopatra! With a deep sigh he slowly walked over to the bed and bent over.

* * *

_A/N: What did you think? Please tell me; I really appreciate feedback. I know the plot isn't really progressing that much *guilty cough* but next chapter will contain some plot. And, as the somewhat perceptive ones of you might have figured out, a scene containing corporal punishment._

_Also, a note on Henry fixing Indy's injuries. I think I was justified in letting him know that stuff, after all _I_ knew it. And he is a scholar... _

_Thank you for reading. :)_


	5. IV Discipline and Riddles

_A/N: A thousand thanks to everyone who has review and a special thanks to jlbrew23 for his inspiring story "Like Father, Like Son". If you haven't already read it; do! This chapter took a little longer, and that's because of school. ^^_

* * *

_With a deep sigh he slowly walked over to the bed and bent over_.

"Good", Henry praised his son encouragingly. He began to unbuckle his belt and then with a practised motion pulled it out of its loops.

Indy himself was close to panicking. There was no way this was happening. He was breathing shallowly and quickly. He wasn't scared of the pain; he _was_ Indiana Jones after all. Damn it, he didn't even know why he was scared.

"Dad", he said, hating himself for sounding so frightened, "I can't... I can't do this."

"Of course you can", Henry replied and placed a steady hand on the small of Indy's back, holding him down and at the same time encouraging him.

"No dad. I really ca... Ouch!"

His complaint was cut short by the belt biting in to his backside with a loud crack. He took a deep breath and opened his mouth to speak again but the belt interrupted him again. With a gasp he steeled himself for the next stroke. Which came, followed by a cascade of rhythmic, biting strokes. Soon his fear was the last thing on his mind. The old man still knew how to handle a belt, he had to give him that.

"I expect you to be honest with me", Henry lectured, "That means no lying and no breaking promises. Understood?"

"Yeah", Indy gasped, "Understood."

"I also expect you to take the consequences of your actions. _Not_ running away and _not_ losing your temper when you don't get things your way. Understood?"

Indy was having a little trouble talking now. His backside was on fire and he was breathing hard.

"Yes", he replied.

"And I don't ever want to hear you talking about running away again. You're my son and I don't care how many times you make mistakes, as long as you face the consequences. Understood?"

With stinging eyes and a lump in his throat, Indy was trying hard not to cry.

"Yes sir", he managed to get out. Henry kept swinging the belt and soon Indy couldn't hold back the tears running down his cheeks. He shouldn't be crying, damn it! He'd been beaten worse before, he'd had his bones broken and been whipped till he bled. As an especially hard blow fell he involuntarily tried to rise but his father's firm hand held him down. He drew a ragged breath still trying hard not to show he was crying. He yelped as the belting continued. Suddenly it stopped. At first Indy didn't notice, the pain that was searing through his backside was enough to take his mind off pretty much everything else, but when he did notice a small sigh of relief escaped him.

"You can get up, Junior. It's over", Henry said gently. With a grimace Indy straightened and after a moment's hesitation accepted his father's comforting embrace.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" Henry asked.

"I still can't believe you just did that", Indy muttered in reply, ignoring the question and then, after a moment's hesitation, added; "I'm sorry."

"You're forgiven. And if you don't mind telling me, I would like to know why you panicked."

"Didn't panic", Indy automatically replied.

"Of course you didn't", Henry replied exasperatedly, not bothering to argue.

They were silent for a while before Indy broke the embrace. He turned away from his father, pacing in front of him before once again turning around to face Henry. Awkwardly he fiddled with his tie and leaned against the wall.

"I was scared, I guess", he began uncomfortably, "I mean... not of the pain. Just of the whole thing..."

"You know that I would never injure you?"

Indy nodded quickly, annoyed at the interruption of his thoughts. How was he supposed to explain something he didn't understand himself?

"I think you were right. I was proud and...", Indy hesitated. You didn't share your feelings very openly in the Jones family. On the other hand, you didn't take your belt to adults either. "I was scared of losing control, dad. I felt... I felt so bloody vulnerable!"

"Understandable", Henry replied with a nod, "You _did_ lose control."

"Thanks, dad", Indy retorted sarcastically, "How comforting."

This brought a small smile to Henry's lips.

"Boy, when you act like you did you have already lost control. Your feelings and your pride has taken over. And having your backside walloped will, even though it might be un-comfortable, help you get them under control. And besides, Junior, if you persist in acting like a child then I will treat you like a child and children aren't in control."

"'Might be uncomfortable'?" Indy snorted, "I won't be able to sit for a week."

"You deserve it", Henry replied seriously.

"I suppose I do", Indy replied and looked down at his feet.

Tense silence filled the room for a moment before Henry cleared his throat and a little awkwardly patted his son's shoulder.

"Let's get on to business then, shall we?" he said.

"Sure."

Henry walked over to the door and gestured for Indy to exit the room. Together they walked down the corridor for a few meters until reaching a door. Taking a small key from his pocket Henry un-locked the door and went inside. Indy followed.

The room was large, much larger than Henry's bedroom. It was dominated by a huge desk in the middle of the room and was, apart from a large fireplace, crammed with books; on the floor, on chairs, in shelves and anywhere else they fit in.

Indy leant against the desk watching as his father was pacing in front of him. To be honest he was having a hard time listening to the older Jones, mainly because his eyes were threatening to close at every moment.

"How familiar are you with the legend of Avalon?" Henry began.

"Somewhat", Indy replied. "The final resting place of King Arthur, 'The Island of Apples'."

"Yes, exactly. Resting place is the correct phrase. You see, legend has it that Arthur still is there, awaiting the day that he shall return to his people."

"All right", Indy said. "But how is that relevant to the Excalibur?"

"Where did Arthur get Excalibur?" Henry asked, out of habit sinking into the role of teacher.

"Some sources say it was 'The Sword in the Stone' but most say that he was given to it by the Lady in the Lake."

"Correct. But where was it made?"

"Of course!" Indy exclaimed, "Avalon."

"Yes. But that's not the interesting part. After King Arthur's departure the Knights of the Round Table lived on. Their descendants held up the mantle of chivalry even after the order was no longer connected to the throne. The order lived on, long into the 15th century. The document which Britain has in its possession is probably the latest, and it is dated 1493."

"What document?" Indy asked, stifling a yawn.

"The instructions for finding Avalon."

Indy visibly perked up at this.

"Where is it? Avalon, I mean."

"I don't know yet", Henry said, seemingly not noticing the disappointed slug of Indy's shoulders, "The text is written in a very peculiar from of Latin mixed with some Celtic and for good measure they've thrown in some Greek as well. Translating it is tedious work."

"European languages are your speciality, dad, not mine", Indy reminded him.

"Yes, but riddles are yours. And these are really riddles."

"May I see the document in question or is it confidential?" Indy asked with a slight hint of sarcasm. In reality he was annoyed with his father for being so enigmatic about the whole thing.

"You may. Come here", Henry beckoned him over to the desk and guided Indy's gaze with his finger. On the desk a withered old sheet of parchment was carefully placed, surrounded by an array of notes and books. The letters on the sheet were clearly old-fashioned in their shapes and after reading only a few words Indy realised why his father hadn't finished deciphering the text yet. Saying it was tedious was an understatement.

"Bloody hell", he whistled softly gaining a soft slap to the back of his head.

"Don't swear", his father admonished.

"You said 1493?" Indy asked, or more stated, "The Latin should be much more modern. This looks more like 5th century."

"It is deliberately written in an old-fashioned and complicated way, even though it doesn't even appear genuine for a minute. There are many terms deriving from the 8th century and the conjugation of several verbs is late middle-ages. So it is rather hard to decipher."

"I can see that..." Indy mumbled, eyes still roaming the old document. "How far have you gotten?"

"A quarter, perhaps", Henry replied. "As I said, this document is written by the remnants of Arthur's Chivalric order. The beginning is basically an explanation of why they have hidden the sword. Wait, I'll read it to you. Listen carefully."

Henry rifled through the heap of documents on the desk before quickly finding what he had been looking for. With a glance at his son to see he was listening he began reading.

"'We, the Order of Chivalry, have taken upon ourselves after witnessing the cruelty and evil of this world to hide the Sword of our Beloved'", Henry interrupted the reading here to give his son another glance and then make a comment, "It isn't really 'beloved' but it is the closest word. I doubt you're familiar with the original word; it appears to be a Latinized form of a Celtic word, but anyways… 'our Beloved King from this unworthy world until he sees fit to return to save us from our decay. Our Order shall disband so that it shall not endure being tainted by our corruption. Before this we hide Excalibur. If the King returns he shall have aid by words left where he rests to find and re-claim his Sword.'"

Henry finished the recital and looked up at Indy.

"Well?" he prompted sounding very much like the professor he was and making Indy feel very much like the student he hadn't been for twenty-odd years.

"It's...", he hesitated, "interesting."

"Interesting?"

"First of all; where did you get Avalon from? It's not mentioned in the text. And why do you even want to find Avalon?"

"Ah!" Henry said and raised a finger, "Excellent. There is another document. A couple of pages from the private journal of Sir Lucan. They explain the idea, although he had been very careful not to give any more significant details away. He explains how the idea to hide the Excalibur came up and then how it developed and how they hid the instructions for finding the sword on Avalon and then left the clues for finding Avalon on three documents and hid them over the world. "

"Oh...", Indy replied, not knowing what else to say. He was beginning to find it harder and harder to concentrate. The narrow cot in his cell hadn't been the ideal place to spend a night and his eyelids were drooping.

"As you know there is a lot of scepticism concerning Arthur's actual existence. However I'm convinced he did exist as a 6th century king."

"All right."

"The Nazis who attacked you had probably mixed you up with me. After all, we do have the same name. They're looking for it to establish their own secret Chivalric order, the elite of the SS."

"Dad...", Indy said sceptically, "The SS aren't exactly chivalric you know... Why would they want an order?"

"Hitler and Goering are obsessed with it. Don't ask me why. The important thing is to stop them."

"And these riddles you're talking 'bout?"

"My theory is that the answer of each riddle is a word and these words together form the way to find Avalon. This is based on the fact that this was the usual form of riddles in the Middle-Ages and also the stylistic form of the verses. They are written equal-syllabically and this was introduced by Alec of Kretoin in the 7th century and was then popularly used in riddle-games for a couple of centuries... Junior, are you listening?"

The question was warranted. Indy was standing with his eyes half-closed, staring out into space. He flinched when Henry addressed the sharp question to him.

"Eh… Yes sir. Riddles…" he drifted off, realising he probably hadn't been listening.

"You're not listening. For Heaven's sake, boy, you're going to pass out if we don't get you do bed."

Henry moved up to his son and took him by the arm.

"Yes sir…" Indy mumbled sleepily.

"Your room is just around the corner."

With Henry's hand on his arm Indy was ushered into a small room furnished almost exactly like Henry's, with the exception of a bookshelf. The bed was large and soft-looking and seemed to be calling out to Indy for him to lie down on it. He made his way with every intention of doing so but was stopped by a restraining hand on his shoulder.

"Undress first", said Henry's voice.

"But dad...", Indy said, sounding more like a whining child than a professor of archaeology.

"No buts", Henry replied sternly.

Indy quickly obeyed, the memory of the belting still very fresh, and disposed of all of his clothes on the floor, except his underpants. With an annoyed look at his still-present father he slid under the covers of his bed and placed himself comfortably on his stomach. When he was in bed his father smiled a melancholy smile.

"This reminds me of when you were a child", he confessed, "It seems so close and yet you're over thirty years... I don't think I've ever really stopped thinking of you as a boy."

"I kinda noticed", Indy yawned.

"Now, boy. Time to sleep. I'll wake you up for dinner."

Indy muttered something un-intelligible, already half asleep. With a smile of parental indulgence Henry walked over to his son and stroked the sleeping boy's, _man's_ he corrected himself, cheek.

"Sleep well, Junior", he said quietly.

* * *

_A/N: Finally some plot! Next chapter will be even more plot plus some Ravensloft. ^^_

_Some notes on the facts; the idea of the Nazis wanting to mimic Arthur's knight is actually true. I think. ^^' Saw a documentary about it so it should be true. As for everything linguistic in this chapter; completely made up. Don't speak a word of Latin. Next chapter will hopefully be up shortly._

_Thank you for reading and please review._


	6. V Dinner Conversation

_A/N:Before you begin reading I'm going to insert some sneaky self-promoting. I noticed the lack of CP-forums on this site so I have created one. It's called "The Woodshed" and the address is __.net/myforums/Thistle_of_Liberty/1616611/__.__ Pay it a visit._

_I think it was pretty much exactly a week since the last chapter. Or maybe two..? Anyways, it wasn't _that _long and now I can proudly present; Chapter V of Indiana Jones and the Search for Excalibur._

Indiana Jones awoke with start as a hand was placed on his forehead. He looked around, disoriented for a moment before his gaze settled on the face of his father hovering above him.

"Time to get up", he said lightly.

Yawning Indy stretched out, reminding Henry of a sleepy puppy, and buried his face in the pillow.

"No thanks", he said, voice muffled.

"Junior…", the tone was clearly warning and with a sigh Indy peered up at his father.

"What time is it?" he asked, even though it was hard to make out the words through the immense yawn.

"Half past six. Dinner's at seven, so you'd better hurry."

"All right, I'll get up", Indy reluctantly said but still didn't make any move to do so.

"Now", Henry pressed.

Very reluctantly Indy dragged himself out of bed, wincing slightly as his backside connected with the bed, and quickly got to his feet.

"Clothes?" he inquired mumbling and in answer Henry indicated a large suitcase that Indy immediately recognized as his own.

"Gabriel's people brought it here", Henry said in answer to his son's questioning glance.

"What should I wear?" Indy asked.

"Dark suit. You can probably find your way down on your own; it's just downstairs, you can't miss it."

He turned to leave the room but turned to face his son again in the doorway.

"And don't be late", he ordered teasingly causing Indy to roll his eyes.

Still yawning Indy entered the bathroom to freshen up. He considered shaving but decided he couldn't bother. Once more in the bedroom he began to rifle through the contents of his suitcase before finding the dark grey tweed-suit he had brought. Together with a white cotton-shirt and a discreet red tie it made, if not a dashing at least a passable outfit.

With a final look in the mirror he exited the room and began the somewhat hesitant walk down. Last time he hadn't been paying much attention to his surroundings and the anger had stopped him from any hesitation. Now, however, his walk downstairs was more than once halted to try to decide which way to go. Soon enough he reached the stairs and with a sigh of relief at not having got lost he hurried down. There he hesitated for a moment before choosing the larger of the doors. With a glance at his watch, five to seven, he entered.

The room was indeed a dining room, the correct dining room Indy assumed as his father, Evans and Ravensloft were seated at the large table. They turned towards him as he entered and all of them rose politely. Henry and Evans nodded to him but Ravensloft held out his hand to be shaken. Indy took it and found himself looking into the serious face of the other man.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked.

"Yes. Thank you", Indy replied smiling politely. Ravensloft indicated a chair with his hand and Indy gingerly sat down, not able to hide a small wince as his sore behind made contact with the wooden chair. Henry did his best to hide a smile in his hand whereas Evans smiled openly at Indy, not even trying to hide his amusement.

"Sore, eh?" he asked with a teasing glint in the clear blue eyes.

Indy couldn't help but blush at the comment but refrained from answering. Ravensloft sent Evans a confused glance and when he didn't get any answer he turned to Henry.

"Is he hurt?", he asked, ignoring Indy either on purpose or out of an oversight, most likely the latter.

"I'll explain later", Henry said soothingly. Ravensloft looked as if he was going to continue but was interrupted by a maid entering with a large silver plate. She sat it down in the middle of the table and everyone waited patiently for her to bring out the next plate before starting to eat. The food was excellent and Indy ate silently for a while, content in listening to the older three talking.

"So, Indiana, do you like my house?" Ravensloft asked, politely trying to include Indy in the conversation.

"I do", Indy replied, "It's very… big."

"Yes", Ravensloft replied, "I was a little worried you might get lost but your father assures me that you're used to moving about in un-familiar locations."

"Yeah, you could say that", Indy said with a trademark grin, feeling more at ease now.

"I don't suppose you've made any progress concerning Excalibur?"

"Junior is informed of the situation", Henry replied before Indy had time to do so. "We will begin working first thing tomorrow morning."

"That's good", Ravensloft replied with a lofty smile. The four men elapsed into silence, not wholly comfortable.

"Ehm… so, why don't you tell Junior how you came to know Gabriel, Evans?" Henry asked, a little awkwardly trying to make conversation.

"Of course, Dr Jones", Evans replied with a smile, relieved at having the silence broken. "Ye see, I was in the Navy since I was just a lad and after that, when I was in me twenties, the Secret Service offered me a job. I took it of course and was paired together with his Lordship. We worked well together and when he was offered this position he asked me to tag along. Right, my lord?"

"Yes", Ravensloft replied. "And while we're at the subject, how come I've never met your son before, Henry? At least not since he was bigger than this."

Ravensloft showed the size with his hand, only a little more than a foot apart.

"I doubt he was that small. He was almost a year when you saw him", Henry replied, ignoring the look of embarrassment on his son's face, "As for why you haven't seen him since… We haven't been that close for a while. A rather long while."

"Oh…", Ravensloft hesitated. It was obvious that he didn't know how to continue. "Well, you seem to have reconciled now."

"We have indeed", Henry replied.

"I'm glad to hear it."

The table once gain lapsed into silence. Indy busied himself eating along with the others.

"How come you turned to archaeology, Jones?" Evans asked after a while and was rewarded with a relieved smile from his boss.

"I'm not sure", Indy replied, intent on keeping the conversation flowing this time, "I was brought up with history so I guess archaeology was a kind of natural choice. "

"I suppose so", Ravensloft nodded. "Even though I must admit that it's never held much fascination for me…"

"That's the most common way of things", Indy said wryly with a lopsided grin.

Ravensloft smiled and opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by a sharp knock on the door.

"Come in", he called and in hurried a man in uniform with a worried frown. He went straight over to Ravensloft and bent over, whispering something in his ear. Ravensloft's face too turned into a frown and he nodded slowly as the man whispered frantically. Then, with a curt yet quiet order, he dismissed the man and turned to his guests with a badly feigned smile.

"Evans, why don't you show Indiana the house?" he said, sounding almost ridiculously strained. Evans caught onto something else than that in the tone, though, and with a smile at Ravensloft he rose.

"Good idea, milord", he said, "Wouldn't want him to get lost, would we? Come along, Jones."

Indy glanced at his father who gave him an almost unnoticeable nod. He rose with a smile.

"Sure. Thank you for the dinner, Mr. Ravensloft."

With a half-hearted wave to his father he left the room together with Evans.

"What was that about?" Indy curiously asked as soon as they were out the door.

"Don't know", Evans replied, "Work, I reckon."

"Seemed urgent", Indy commented casually.

"Secret Service work always is. It ain't archaeology."

"Ha ha. Very funny."

They continued walking in silence. At one of the doors Evans stopped and gestured for Indy to come inside as he opened the door.

"This might interest ye", he said. With a shrug Indy entered the room, trying to look casual. Once he entered the room he didn't succeed. Wide-eyed, he stared around himself. The room was fairly small and was almost completely taken up by the large round table in the middle. The table that had Indy stand staring in awe. It was made of dark wood with intricately carved vines around the legs. The surface was what was really amazing though; on it there was a three-dimensional world map. It must have been made before people realized the world was round, Indy noticed, and a lot of the more distant countries were placed wrongly. The whole thing seemed to be made out of wood but was painted in brilliant colours and the oceans even had small carved waves. The paint was scraped off here and there and in Asia a large mountain was missing its top but otherwise it was in excellent condition.

"Wow…", was all Indy could think off to say.

"Nice, innit?"

"It's… great. Where'd you get it from?"

"God knows", Evans replied with a dismissive shrug, "Ye'll have to ask his lordship. He might know."

From the tone of his voice it was made apparent that even though it was actually possible it wasn't very likely.

"When's it from?"Indy asked.

"Ye're the archaeologist", Evans said.

"Well, yeah, but dad's the medieval expert", Indy said and then struck by a sudden thought, "Please don't tell me that you haven't showed him this! He's going to kill us all if you haven't shown him this."

"Relax. His lordship showed him."

They went silent. Indy walked over to the table and softly ran his hands over the surprisingly smooth surface.

"So… when is it from?" Indy asked again.

"Early 13th century, according to your father", came Ravensloft voice from the doorway.

"Milord", Evans said with a nod.

"Sir", Indy greeted trying to hide his surprise. "I didn't expect you."

"We wanted to find you. Henry thought you'd be either here or the library. There's coffee now."

He gestured at the door but didn't move. Instead he sent Evans a glance.

"Why don't ye join yer dad in the library? It's straight out the door, down the left, fourth door on yer right."

"OK… sure", Indy replied, looking back and forth between the two men. What the hell was it with this house?

As he left the room he threw a glance over his shoulder. Evans and Ravensloft were standing close together and Ravensloft was talking quietly to Evans with a worried frown on his face. Indy shrugged and closed the door behind him. Briskly he walked down the corridor and knocked on the door indicated by Evans.

"Come in", his father's voice called out. Indy entered. The room was indeed a library. It was completely covered in books. Not just on the shelves, but in stacks on the floor and tables as well. Henry was sitting at a table in the middle of the room which wasn't that covered by books sipping a cup of coffee.

"Ah, Junior", he greeted with a smile, "join me, please."

Indy did as he was bid, slowly walking over to his father taking great care not to step on any of the books. He sat down in the chair his father indicated, wincing a little as the cold wood reminded him all too clearly that the, he almost blushed even by thinking about it, belting had taken place only hours ago.

"How was your tour?" Henry asked.

"Wasn't much of a tour. We got to that map-table and then Ravensloft came."

"Yes! That map-table", Henry repeated, "What did you think of it?"

"It was amazing", Indy replied, "Is it Italian?"

"No, Oriental. Early 13th century."

"Yeah, Ravensloft said you said that."

"Extraordinary craft-work, isn't it?"

"Yeah. It is", Indy said and after a short hesitation added, "Dad, can I ask you a question?"

"Of course", Henry replied, putting away the cup of coffee as if preparing himself.

"How did Evans know that… that you… you know."

"He asked after you had fallen asleep. He wasn't particularly surprised."

"Oh…", Indy said, "And Ravensloft? Did you 'explain'?

"I did. He seemed to think it was rather peculiar", Henry said with an apologetic shrug and then added, "On the other hand, he thinks most things not concerning equations are."

"Dad…", Indy said, trying to sound reasonable and _not_ whining, "You actually told them that you _spanked_ me?"

He didn't succeed.

"Well, yes", Henry replied with a wry smile, "Why shouldn't I?"

"Because… because…", Indy spluttered. His dad was so infuriating sometimes. "Because!"

Henry raised an eye-brow in a very annoying fashion. Indy crossed his arm and leaned back in his chair, all the time glaring defiantly at his father who sighed exasperatedly.

"Sometimes, son, I wonder if the last twenty-five years were just a dream and that you haven't really aged at all."

Indy quickly un-crossed his arms and sat up straight but leaving the glare in place. Henry sighed once more.

"Junior", he said, "it's not as if I intend to tell everyone I meet. Evans had already guessed, and if you'd kept up the brat-act he would probably have thrashed you himself. He's not, as you might have noticed, a man who tolerates nonsense. And as for Gabriel… well, I doubt he's even fully aware there's something unconventional about spanking an adult. Convention isn't his strong side. Any other questions?"

Indy stared at his father for a moment after the lecture. What was he supposed to reply to that?

"Could you pass me the coffee, please?"

It was Henry's turn to stare now before he broke out into a hearty laugh.

"And sometimes, my boy, you amaze me. That must be the worst change of subject I have ever heard and I've been a teacher for thirty years." Henry said, still chuckling quietly.

"I have a lot of hidden talents", Indy replied with a smirk.

Henry stopped chuckling and looked Indy straight in the eye with a serious expression, startling Indy.

"You do", he stated, pride evident in his voice, "You do indeed."

_A/N: For a change I haven't actually got much to say… Hope you enjoyed the chapter, I certainly enjoyed writing it._

_Thank you for reading and please leave a review._


	7. VI Morning Work

_A/N: This took a while to write. I'm sorry if I've kept you waiting but it was hard to write. Anyways, here it is. Chapter six of Indiana Jones and the Search for Excalibur._

* * *

Indiana Jones groaned softly and buried his head in his hands. He stared hard at the paper on the table in front of him. When his father had said riddles the day before he hadn't been joking. And as if the enigmatic poems weren't enough, it was far too early in the morning to be up after the last night. He, Henry, Evans and Ravensloft had stayed up past midnight talking and discussing.

After he had gotten over Evans gruffness and Ravensloft's, well, absentness the discussion had flowed well. Now, the morning after, Indy couldn't quite say what they had actually talked about, not as much because of the brandy that had somehow been procured around ten as because of the peculiarity of the discussion. There never seemed to be less than two subjects discussed at once and everyone jumped to different subjects at any given time and, of course, everyone else was expected to understand what subject you were referring to. Indy had found it most confusing. Confusing, but enjoyable.

The morning had not been too enjoyable. He'd been woken up by a heavy pounding on the door.

"Time to get up", he heard Evans' voice, "yer dad wants ye in his study in forty-five minutes sharp."

Not really feeling up to arguing with neither Evans nor Henry Indy simply obeyed. Breakfast was quiet since both Evans and Henry had eaten and Ravensloft wasn't to be seen anywhere. After he had shuffled down some eggs plus two large cups of coffee he went up to the study where he, as expected, found his father.

Henry was deeply concentrated on the documents in front of him. As Indy entered and opened his mouth to greet him Henry simply raised a hand and waved for Indy to be quiet. Indy crossed his arms, annoyed, and glared hard at his father until the man finally looked up from his work.

"Ah, good morning, Junior" he greeted with a smile.

"Yeah. Mornin'", Indy said, still a little annoyed.

"Did you sleep well?" Henry asked.

"Sure", Indy said and ignored the prompting glare his father sent him.

"Me too, thank you", Henry replied to the unasked question with a note of disapproval in his voice.

"Dad, please..?" Indy said, exasperated. He was not ten and had no need, or want, for lessons on manners. This earned him a raised eyebrow from his father but Henry did leave the subject.

"Here's what I want you to do", he said. He took one of the papers next to him and looked at it with a frown. Then he took a pen and began to mark it. After that he pulled an empty sheet of paper from his notebook and waved Indy over. Curtly he shoved the two papers and a pen in Indy's hand.

"Copy what I underlined. It's riddles. Solve them."

"OK…", Indy said, "What if I can't?"

"You can", Henry said in a voice which left no room for argument and with a sigh Indy took the objects and went over to a table. He sat down and copied the two riddles his father had marked out, ignoring the notes in the margins. Once he finished he glared down at the two short poems, or riddles, in front of him.

When a piece of your heart  
no longer is there

------------------------------------

The land that is ruled  
by the rightfully anointed

------------------------------------

He began to regret this already. He rose and went over to return the original paper to Henry and then went back to the table.

That had been half an hour ago and he still hadn't made any progress, except filling the whole paper with scribbled notes. He massaged his temples with a sigh. Rightfully anointed. Solomon? Saul? A thought struck him. Maybe just king? And the land that is ruled by the king? Kingdom. Of course. Indy suddenly felt a strong desire to hit himself. Why hadn't he seen that before?

"Dad", he called to Henry, "I got one of 'em. Kingdom."

"Ah", Henry said, then, quickly grasping the logic "Rightfully anointed, right? Well done, son. Only four to go now. I've translated one more. You got a pen? I'll read it to you."

"Yeah, hang on", Indy said and quickly prepared himself for writing. "All right..?"

"'Carrier of lineage' new line 'and vessel of blood'."

"Carrier of lineage and vessel of blood?" Indy repeated and Henry nodded affirmatively.

"OK. I'll get back to work then…", Indy said, half-hoping for his father to suggest a break. He enjoyed his work normally, but this kind of long, monotonous tasks with little reward wasn't his style. Nevertheless he set to work with as much energy as he could muster.

He abandoned the first riddle, deciding that he wasn't getting anywhere, and began with the new one. The first word that sprung to his mind was the Grail. It was often described as a vessel holding the blood of Christ. But they had already found the Grail once and it had not been connected to the Excalibur. So he continued. 'Lineage' suggested some sort of family, something genetic. Heir..?

"Dad", Indy said.

"Yes?" came Henry's absent reply.

"How about 'heir' for the one you just gave me?"

Henry looked thoughtful for a moment.

"It's a possibility, son, but why the blood?"

Indy didn't answer. His face was suddenly adorned with a large grin.

"Son?" Henry said again, trying to catch his son's attention.

"Precisely, dad."

"What are you…" Henry began but stopped. "Oh. Son. I see. Well done!"

Indy smiled at the praise. He'd never admit it but he did still feel some sort of need for his father's approval. He supposed that was why he had let Henry belt him. Indy could have left, his father wasn't able to stop him by force, but somehow winning Henry's approval had been more important than saving his own pride. And Henry hadn't had any consideration for Indy's pride. Rather the opposite actually.

His thoughts were interrupted by Henry rising and leaving the room. Indy could hear his voice calling something and then he heard him talking to someone. After a short while Henry came back in again. Indy sent him a questioning look.

"What was that about?" he asked.

"There's a book I need to continue this translation", Henry replied, "I asked Evans to send someone to get it from the British Library. "The Life of Saint Gildas". They should have it there…"

"I'll go", Indy eagerly offered. He needed to get out, get a break from this. And besides he hadn't been to the British Library for ages.

"Junior…", Henry said. "You can't. It's too dangerous."

"C'mon dad!" Indy said, "It's not as if I've never been in danger before."

"I know that only too well, son, but there is no point in putting yourself in danger deliberately."

"But, dad, what're the odds of running into Nazis _again_?"

"It doesn't matter. Running out into a city where you know there are Nazis looking for you is just stupid!"

"Please? I'm sure Evans' men got more important things to do…"

"I…", Henry hesitated, "We'll hear what Evans says."

Indy inwardly smirked. One-zero to him. Well, sort of. He glanced over at Henry. He had already gotten back to his translations. Indy sighed and leant back in his chair. He hoped Evans would come soon. His prayers were answered almost immediately. After a brisk knock on the door Evans entered the room.

"Ye wanted me, Professor?" he said.

"Yes. There's a book we need. I was wondering whether you could send a man or something to get it… I'd do it myself but Gabriel didn't want me to leave the house."

Indy sent his father a prompting glare, telling him to continue, but it was ignored.

"I'll go meself", Evans replied and silenced Henry's polite protests with a wave of his hand. "His lordship has made clear that yer research is top priority."

"I'm sure you're busy", Indy jumped in, "Wouldn't it be better if I went?"

Evans simply shrugged in reply and sent Henry a questioning glance. Henry sighed.

"I don't know", he said, "How dangerous is it?"

"Not very, for me. But the Nazis are looking for ye and they're resolute fellows, ye gotta give them that."

"Yeah, but honestly. It's just a trip to the British Library."

"Well, it's fine for me if ye come. I'm not letting ye go alone, though."

"Great", Indy said with a large smile, exiting the room as he spoke, "I'll just get my coat."

"Hold on, Junior!", Henry called out after him, "I didn't say you could go."

"Da-ad!" Indy said, trying not to sound _too_ whiny.

"Very well. But don't get into any trouble!"

Indy resisted the strong urge to roll his eyes as he hurried out of the room to get his coat from his room. He quickly returned to where the two older men were and with a grin he threw open the door.

"Ready to go?" he asked with a smile. He shouldn't be feeling so childishly happy but he _had_ been stuck inside for over thirty-six hours now and twelve or so of those had been spent in a cell. Evans gave him a tired look but shrugged.

"Sure. We'll be back in time for lunch."

"We?" Indy asked. "You're coming too?"

"I said I'm not letting ye go on yer own", Evans replied.

"Well, but _you_ don't need to come. One of your men is more than enough."

"If I let ye run off with one of me men you would probably end up dead or in jail, the both of ye."

"C'mon, not you too! It's _London_!" Indy exclaimed. "We're in the good guys' territory. Now, we gonna get going or not?"

"We are", Evans confirmed with a glare, "See ye, Professor."

"Eh?" Henry looked up from his translation. "Oh, yes. Good bye."

Together they left Henry to his work and made their way out of the house. When they reached Evans' car, which was parked in a garage somehow connected to the house, Evans gestured for Indy to get inside. On the left side, Indy noted with a smile. When they were both safely seated Evans turned to Indy with a serious expression.

"Now, Jones, I reckon yer used to being the one in charge but when yer with me, I'm the one in charge. Got that?" Evans asked. Indy shrugged in reply. He didn't like being told what to do.

"Sure", he said, albeit unwillingly.

"That means, lad, that ye won't like the consequences of disobeying. This might be London and the odds of something dangerous happening are tiny but that doesn't mean I'm gonna tolerate any disobedience. From what yer dad told me it seems ye've got a talent for getting yerself in trouble."

Indy rolled his eyes. He seemed to be stuck with two men that were intent on treating him like a ten year old and one man who was just as likely to forget him as talk to him. Great.

"I'll be a good boy", he promised with a sarcastic smile. "But just for reference, what're you gonna do if I'm not?"

"I'll borrow yer dad's methods for dealing with ye."

Indy opened his mouth and blinked once, slowly. He moistened his lips with the tip of his tongue.

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that, if that's fine with you", he said. Evans smirked but nodded. He must have been joking, right? Indy threw a glance at him. He didn't look as if he was joking. Indy closed his eyes and leant back. He would obey, just to be on the safe side. He sighed. A couple of days ago, he would have laughed out loud if someone had told him that he during the following days would not only be given a belting by his father but also be told by an almost complete stranger that he would do the same if Indy disobeyed. He supposed he should just hope Evans didn't fulfill his threat.

* * *

_A/N: First of all I want to thank everyone who has reviewed. All reviews, however short, encourage me greatly and I will be very happy if you just take a moment or two and write a line to let me know what you think._

_Next chapter should be up within one or two weeks. I've decided to try to get a chapter done in no more than two weeks. We'll see how that goes, though…_

_Thank you for reading and don't forget to pay my spanking-forum a visit, _.net/myforums/Thistle_of_Liberty/1616611/


	8. VII Trip to the Library

_A/N: It feels as if I've been working on this chapter forever, but now it's finally finished. WARNING: This chapter contains corporal punishment of an adult character._

* * *

Evans parked the car just a few blocks from the entrance to the British Library. They got out of the car together and Indy followed Evans down the street. Evans slowed down for a moment, allowing Indy to come up beside him.

"What book is it we're getting?" he asked.

"The Life of Saint Gildas", Indy replied. "I'm not entirely sure why, though."

Evans nodded and they continued in silence. They entered the large building and were met by an enormous hallway. Indy turned to Evans.

"They've probably got it stored somewhere", Indy said. "We need the staff to get it for us."

"All right", Evans said, "Lead the way."

Indy nodded and walked over to a desk under a large sign saying "Information". An old, spinster-like woman was seated behind it, peering at some papers through glasses perched on the tip of her nose. Indy cleared his throat and the woman looked up at him with an annoyed expression.

"Yes?" she asked, drawing the word out and making it sound more like 'what are you doing in front of my desk?'.

"We're looking for a book", Indy said with a forced smile, "The Life of Saint Gildas".

"Have you looked in the public area?" she asked.

"No", Indy replied. "It's an old book, you see, and I doubt you'd keep it in public."

"We have a lot of old books here", the woman said haughtily, "and most of them _are_ kept in public."

"Well, I doubt this one is. It's 'The Life of Saint Gildas". Seventh century. We need the oldest copy you have."

The woman pursed her lips.

"Very well", she said, "I shall check."

"Thank you", Indy said. The woman moved from the desk and with a final look of disapproval she told Indy to wait. With a suffering expression Indy turned to Evans.

"What is it with librarians?" he asked with an almost comical exasperation.

"Must be all the books", Evans replied with a smirk.

"Yeah… By the way, how 'bout we do some sight-seeing after we've got the book?"

"Not gonna happen", Evans said, even though he did look somewhat amused by the question. They waited in silence for almost five minutes before the librarian returned; with the book in her hand. Indy stretched out a hand to take it but the woman didn't seem to notice.

"Do you have any authorization to have this?" she asked.

"Look here", Indy began, raising his voice enough for Evans to send him an angry glare.

"We're with the government", he said and pulled out a badge from his jacket, holding it up to the woman. She sniffed, somehow affronted by this, but she did give him the book which he quickly handed over to Indy.

"It must be back within a week", she said and Evans nodded.

"Thank ye for yer time", he said and then left, not bothering to check whether Indy followed or not. Indy gave the annoying woman a glare before hurrying after Evans. Once they got outside Indy drew a sigh of relief.

"One thing's for sure, I'm not gonna miss _her_", Indy remarked with wry grin. Evans humped in agreement.

"Let's just get to the car", he said. Together they headed for the car, on Indy's part slightly unwillingly. He had no desire to get back to the gloomy library and the tedious work of transcribing the riddles. He sighed. Suddenly he felt Evans' hand on his arm and he looked up. In front of them were two tall grim-looking men, dressed in immaculate suits. Both of them had small swastikas pinned to their lapels. Indy groaned. One of the men smiled evilly.

"Ah…", he said in a silky voice, only the slightest hint of an accent, "I see you have fetched what we need for us. How kind."

"You guys seem to have a fixation with my family's reading", Indy mocked. "Why don't you just run off to Germany and find a library?"

"We do not want any book, Herr Jones, we want the book you have in your hand."

"Give them the book, Jones", Evans ordered. Indy looked to him in surprise. What the hell? They couldn't just give it up.

"No way!" he said.

"Jones…" Evans mumbled warningly. Indy turned to him.

"What?" he said, "You can't really mean we're just gonna give it to them?"

"Yes, Jones. That's exactly what I mean."

"But…"

"Now, Jones", Evans said and there was no doubt that it was meant as a command. Indy still hesitated and before he had time to react one of the men had pulled out a gun. Indy raised his hands a little and took an involuntary step backwards.

"Wow…" he said, "calm down."

The man cocked his gun and without really thinking Indy kicked the man's shin, reacting instinctively on the sound. The man doubled over in surprise but his companion quickly pulled out a gun, pointing it straight at Indy's head. In the corner of his eyes Indy saw Evans pull his own gun and direct it at the man. He couldn't help but feeling a little scared at Evans' expression. "Borrow your father's methods for dealing with you." Oh, god. This was so not going well.

The Nazi Indy had kicked had now recovered enough to straighten up and raise his fist as if preparing to punch someone. Indy threw himself forwards, tripping the man and a shot rang out. It was the tallest Nazi who had fired and, fortunately, missed. Indy looked up from his struggle to see Evans punch the tall man on the jaw. Then Evans yanked Indy up by his collar and pulled him away, breaking into a run.

"Are ye daft, Jones?" Evans asked with a less than pleased tone. Indy swallowed his pride, unwillingly, and did not reply.

"I'm talking to ye!" Evans continued, with force. Indy rolled his eyes. He wasn't twelve.

"I noticed", he replied sarcastically. "Where are we running?"

"Car."

And they did. A shot rang out behind them and Indy threw a look over his shoulder. Damn. Instinctively he felt for his gun. It wasn't there. He might just have to start carrying a gun even for trips to the library. After a short run they reached the car and Indy quickly got in. Before he had even time to close the door Evans had started it and with a screeching sound they took off, leaving two very angry looking Nazis in their wake.

"I thought I told ye to obey", Evans said through clenched teeth.

"Well, yeah", Indy defended himself, "but we couldn't just give them the book!"

"Why not?" Evans said, "It's just a book. "

"Yes, but still! It'd be like giving up!"

"That's better than dying."

"We didn't die!" Indy argued.

"We could have. I'm not risking my life 'cause ye don't know how to obey."

"I do! Just that… well, you were wrong!"

Evans took a long breath, looking as if he was trying to calm himself.

"All right, laddie, here's the deal. Ye shut up until we reach home, then we talk. Got it?"

"Yeah", Indy replied after a moment of hesitation. "I got it."

They remained silent for the drive home and when they reached the garage Evans silently gestured for Indy to get out. When they were out of the car Evans pointed to the floor.

"Stay", he ordered and then left, not even waiting for Indy to reply.

"I'm not a dog…", Indy muttered. But he did wait. Disobeying _again_ didn't seem like a very wise option. After what seemed like an eternity Evans returned. Indy opened his mouth to start talking but the older man silenced him with a glare.

"We got away easy this time, Jones", Evans lectured. "We might not the next time."

"I'm aware of that", Indy replied with more than a little annoyance in his voice, "What do you want me to do about it?"

Evans gave Indy a long, hard look. Maybe it was time to quit the attitude and try to apologize. Indy considered the idea, but it seemed too… cowardly. Maybe Henry Sr. was right, maybe Indy was too proud.

"I want ye to obey!"

"Why?" Indy more or less shouted. Getting into arguments was the one thing he seemed to do.

"Because I say so", Evans replied, forcefully but without shouting.

"What d'ya mean 'because I say so'? You gotta have a reason."

"What for?" Evans asked, an infuriating smile tugging at his mouth, "I tell ye to obey and ye obey, that's all there is to it."

Indy opened his mouth to speak but closed it again when he realized he didn't know how to explain. There _was_ more to it. He couldn't just be expected to obey without question; he was an independent and responsible adult. There was no reason why he should take orders from Evans. Except… Indy shot a look at him, trying to judge whether the man could fulfill his earlier threat. And damn it all, he probably could. Not that Indy was about to admit it.

"Screw that", he said instead.

"Ye promised me that ye'd obey."

"Well…" Indy stopped himself for a moment and grimaced. He couldn't really argue that. "I sort of did obey."

"How can you 'sort of obey'?"

"Eh… I was about to give the book to them, just they pulled out their guns before I had a chance."

"And would that have happened if ye had obeyed immediately?"

"Might have. You never know with Nazis."

"Ye know, it seems I'm not really getting trough to ye", Evans said thoughtfully. "And I do remember telling ye what disobedience would cause…"

Indy backed away involuntarily, holding up his hands as if to shield himself. He could handle this. Evans came up to him and the determined look on his face was enough to make Indy wish he was _far_ away from him. The large man grabbed Indy by the wrist and began to slowly drag him over to a chair which was placed amongst the clutter of technical articles on the floor. Indy almost got the expression he was deliberately going slowly to give him some time to get used to the idea.

"Evans, look here", he began. "You can't really mean to do this!"

"Why not? Please enlighten me."

"Because... Because I'm an adult and you're not dad!"

"So?" Evans asked. He was still dragging Indy toward the chair but now Indy had gotten over his initial denial to begin to struggle. He didn't bother answering Evans.

"Jones", Evans began in an incredibly annoyingly reasonable tone, "ye either stop struggling or I'll carry ye."

"Fuck. You." Indy uttered the words with emphasis. Evans looked angry and with a rough jerk he spun Indy around so that he was face to face with Evans.

"Look, lad, ye either let me spank ye or we can go to yer dad and see what he says. Yer choice."

"D'you have to bring him into this?" Indy complained.

"I didn't, you did. Now, which is it gonna be?"

Indy closed his eyes for a moment, hoping that when he opened them he would be somewhere else. Why had he mentioned his father?

"Look, can't we just forget about this?" he asked hopefully.

"No." Evans replied. "We can't. Ye knew the consequences and ye disobeyed. Now make the choice or I'll make it for ye."

Indy pondered the question. He was not going to get away, was he? There was always the possibility that his father wouldn't consider it such a big deal. A _slight_ possibility. And if he did not Indy had no desire whatsoever to be near him anytime soon.

"I… Look…" Indy stammered, "Just don't tell dad."

"That wasn't so hard, was it?"

"Not for you, it wasn't", Indy mumbled under his breath in reply. Evans still heard it and Indy could swear he saw a quick smile on the man's lips before he turned stern again. He began to unbuckle his belt and then slid it out of its loops.

"Bend over the chair", he ordered. Indy grimaced and slowly backed away. This was insane. There was no way this was happening. His dad belting him, okay, but an almost complete stranger? No bloody way.

"Evans… This is crazy."

The large man sighed and gave Indy an exasperated look.

"I thought we went through that", he said, "I understand that ye're not comfortable with this and I won't force it on ye."

"Really?" Indy asked hopefully.

"No, I already told ye. If ye don't want me to spank ye, we'll go to yer dad.

"That's the same as forcing!" Indy whined. Evans merely kept looking at Indy with the same calm expression.

"Okay, okay. Do it." Indy exclaimed after a while. Evans nodded.

"Over the chair", he ordered. Indy closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He could handle it. He was an adult and he could handle being bent over a chair and having his dad's friend's subordinate taking his belt to him for disobeying. Damn. That sounded so wrong. Crazy, he thought, this whole house is bloody crazy. But he obeyed.

Before he had time to reflect any more on his unusual position the first stroke came. The hard leather bit into his backside with force. Indy made a muffled sound. The next stroke came and Indy had to bite his lip to keep from yelping. More strokes came and Indy began to breathe harder. This really hurt. God…

After a little while Indy began to feel his eyes tearing up and the pain in his behind was beginning to accumulate into a searing fire. How long was the blasted man going to keep this up? A muffled yelp escaped him as the belt hit his thighs. When Evans kept directing the strokes at that area Indy couldn't hold back a series of small yelps. Evans seemed to accept this as a cue to stop and he stopped swinging his thick belt.

"Ye're gonna obey me now?" he asked.

"Yessir", Indy groaned, and it was true. Damn it, he hadn't even intended to disobey in the first place. Evans had been right about giving the Nazis the book and Indy had promised to obey. Next time though, he was going to think _very_ carefully before disobeying.

"Good", Evans said. "Ye can get up then."

Indy did so and turned around just in time to see Evans buckle his belt. The large man gave him a smile and Indy grimaced in return.

"Do you always express your opinions this… eh, strongly?" he asked. Evans smiled a crooked smile.

"No, just with people who act like brats", he replied. Indy simply glared.

"By the way; did you know there were Nazis in London?" Indy asked. "I mean other than the ones I encountered?"

"Yes. They were spotted by some of our men."

"Why the hell didn't you tell me?"

Evans shrugged.

"Ye didn't ask."

"Of course I didn't ask! It didn't occur to me that you might not tell me!"

"Why should I tell ye? There was no reason for ye to know", Evans explained calmly.

"No reason!? They pointed guns at me, if you didn't notice!"

"And we've already discussed why that happened, haven't we? I can repeat the lesson if ye feel it's necessary…"

Indy visibly blanched at this and he almost physically backed down. Evans hid a smile.

"Did you know they wanted the book too?" Indy asked, deliberately ignoring the earlier question, unable to keep some sulkiness from his voice.

"I don't think they did", Evans replied. "They were probably watching us and saw it, then decided they wanted it."

"Sounds reasonable."

They were silent, Indy trying not to rub his sore behind. He was more confused than he let on and right now he needed some time to think through what had just happened.

"Evans?" he asked hesitantly. "Will you tell my father?"

"Trust me, lad, he'll know without me telling him", Evans replied with a low chuckle. Indy blushed slightly but hid it by reaching for "The Life of Saint Gildas".

"I'll bring this to him now then, if you don't mind."

"No, no… Off ye go."

And with that he ushered Indy out of the garage.

* * *

_A/N: Next chapter will take a while as well, I think. I'm feeling a little un-inspired at the moment but I shall try to cure it with a large dose of "The Last Crusade" and tea._

_Thank you for reading and don't forget to review. _


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